


Meddling and Other Sins.

by Michaelssw0rd



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Canon Universe, Fluff, Getting Together, Gwaine Being Gwaine (Merlin), Jealousy, M/M, Meddling, Not Canon Compliant, POV Gwaine (Merlin)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:20:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23942236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michaelssw0rd/pseuds/Michaelssw0rd
Summary: Gwaine is just about Done™ watching Arthur and Merlin dance around each other. It's been going on for too long. Any more of it will give Gwaine brain disease-- if he hasn't already contracted one from the two idiots.So really, doingsomethingto get those two together is almost as much for his own sanity, as it is for them.
Relationships: Gwaine/Percival (Merlin), Leon/Morgana (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 72
Kudos: 596
Collections: Merthur Glompfest 2020





	Meddling and Other Sins.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Merlioske](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merlioske/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [Merlioske](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merlioske/pseuds/Merlioske) in the [Merthur_Glompfest_2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Merthur_Glompfest_2020) collection. 



> I've been going through a really bad writing block, that anyone who knows me have probably heard me cry about. But recently I've been looking to get back into the writing game again. 
> 
> Enter Glompfest. I LOVE the idea of it. (thank you mods, it's a wonderful wonderful fest, and you are wonderful accomodating people).  
> I saw the prompt. (Who doesn't like meddling!Gwaine and good!Morgana). More importantly, I saw the prompter. Merlioske has made my dark inspiration-less days so much brighter by so many sweet comments on my fics. Here's one for you ♥. It's been a struggle and I am not as happy with it as i wished. Still, I hope it gives you even a fraction of the joy your comments have given me.
> 
> Also heres my eternal gratitude to mnemonic madness for all the handholding and last minute beta. You're the best!

Gwaine noticed everything.

That’s what most people got wrong. They thought Gwaine a fickle, blind to the situations and the surroundings, hare brain. He had a reputation for that. But it wasn’t because he didn’t  _ notice _ things. He did. He just chose to forget about most things once he had noticed them.

At that moment, Gwaine wished—from the bottom of his heart—that he could forget the spectacle that was Arthur and Merlin.

He mustered a smile as Merlin ambled towards him, after being fondled by Arthur for the better part of an hour on the pretext of  _ training _ . There was a spaced out look on Merlin’s face, like his mind was still on the way Arthur had rolled on top of him… multiple times! He didn’t even have the decency to be disgruntled, or pretend to be hurt. Instead, he kept smiling and sneaking not-so-covert glances at Arthur’s retreating backside like an idiot.

Even though an idiot, Merlin was still his friend. So instead of throttling him, Gwaine offered Merlin his goblet of water when he approached

“Thanks,” Merlin said gratefully as he took the goblet and raised it to his lips. “Arthur was a right arse today.”

“Arthur… arse. Yep. The important bits. Shouldn’t forget those.” Gwaine said nonchalantly.

Merlin looked up at him, confused. Before Merlin could form a question, Arthur’s shout interrupted them.

“ _ Mer _ lin. Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Merlin frowned, looking back. Across the ground Arthur was standing obnoxiously, making a broad gesture pointing towards himself. Gwaine  _ wished _ he was implying what it looked like: that Merlin was forgetting that there was another scene after foreplay before the act was finished. But no… of course not. The idiot probably was implying  _ more _ foreplay. Sure enough…

“Seriously, what do I even pay you for? Who will help me get out of this armor?”

Merlin rolled his eyes, and had the decency to look at least a little annoyed. Even though Gwaine could see the glint of excitement in his eyes that he could bet was at the prospect of getting to touch ‘His Majesty’ for a little longer, a little more intimately.

Damn.

Gwaine clapped Merlin on his shoulder—harder than necessary, making him groan in pain. He deserved it, for putting Gwaine through this torture. “Go undress our princess, Merlin. And then take him to bed.”

“It is too early to go to bed, even for Arthur. He has a meeting with the council after this.” Merlin replied, without thinking it through. “Seriously, he is a grown man. Grown  _ prince _ . Surely he can undress himself.”

“I’m sure he can, Merlin. But maybe he doesn’t want to. Ever think of that?” Gwaine put in as much suggestion as he possibly could in his tone. Merlin just shook his head, looking disgusted at the idea of Arthur’s laziness.

“Sometime this year, Merlin!” Arthur called again, impatient.

Merlin gulped down the remaining water and gave the goblet back to Gwaine. “What have I done to deserve this,” he groaned, before bounding back towards Arthur, looking anything  _ but _ dismayed. 

Gwaine looked up, asking heavens to give him some patience. That should’ve been Gwaine’s line. What had  _ he _ done to deserve being witness to this slow, tortuous game of not-courting between his prince and his best friend.

When he looked back towards the training field, Arthur and Merlin were nowhere to be found. Instead, he found sharp blue eyes looking towards him from across the field. Morgana was standing in her regal purple dress, watching him like a hawk. She had been there through the whole  _ training  _ façade, and somehow, Gwaine knew she had also noticed everything he had.

He gave her a subtle nod and a wry smile. From across the distance, she returned the gesture.

* * *

A few days later, Gwaine was attending a banquet. By the time he finished his first drink, he had already forgotten what the banquet was in honor of. Not that he had cared to remember it in the first place. Must be one or the other royalty business, or maybe something else entirely. It was none of his concern.

What  _ was  _ of his concern was happening right in front of everyone… and nobody was looking.

Gwaine held in a groan as he watched Merlin pour drink in Arthur’s goblet leaning dangerously towards him. Their hands were in contact longer than was appropriate, and their eye contact was in a whole other universe than appropriate whatsoever. Arthur had to do was turn his face and tilt his chin up… and their lips would touch. It was taking all of Gwaine’s self-control not to jump ahead and actually do that for him!

“Quite adorable, aren’t they?” A tinkering voice said from beside him, making him nearly jump out of his skin. It wasn’t a hard voice to recognize: it was a cause of daydreams of many men, and also of their nightmares.

“Not the word I would use, My Lady.” Gwaine smiled at his drink before turning towards her.

“Oh?” Morgana asked, faux curious. “What word would you use then?”

“Nauseating,” Gwaine said without really thinking about it.

Morgana laughed. “I wouldn’t be that harsh.”

Gwaine raised his eyebrows at her, which made her laugh again. “Okay, I agree… they are a bit sickening.”

There was a sound of a crash. Predictably, Merlin had dropped the cutlery he was carrying. Gwaine hadn’t been paying attention, but he could bet it was because he had been too busy staring at Arthur to see where he was going. And now, just as predictably, Arthur was staring at Merlin’s ass as he bent down to pick the said cutlery.

“I don’t know what it would take for them to, you know, get on with it. This has become more than just torture for these two. It’s torturing  _ me _ .”

“Hmm…” Morgana hummed thoughtfully. “Now if only there was something to be done.”

Gwaine was looking ruefully at Merlin’s flushed face. When he turned his gaze towards Arthur, he found the prince staring back at him with something not entirely pleasant in his eyes. Huh.

Morgana saw it too, because there was a smile in her voice when she said. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed… but my brother is somewhat of a jealous type.”

* * *

The plan was simple. Flirt with Merlin, make Arthur jealous and help them both realize that it was in their mutual interest to have a roll in the hay together. Or multiple rolls. Rolling until eternity if feasible, really.

There was just one problem: Merlin seemed absolutely immune to his charms.

* * *

“Hey pretty boy,” he said, resting is hand on Merlin’s shoulder and leaning against him. “Wanna hang out sometime?”

“What do you think we are doing right now?” Merlin shrugged off his hand and reached for a broom. “I don’t know why you insist on keeping me company while I clean the stables on orders of  _ His Royal Pratness. _ ” He said the last words loud enough to carry, and sure enough, Arthur peeked from where he was pretending to care for his horse (and was instead just rubbing gentle hands on him, wishing it was Merlin he was petting—Gwaine was sure).

“If you had kept them clean, I wouldn’t have to order you!” Arthur replied. “And a little respect,  _ Mer _ lin, or I will add this to your daily schedule.”

“Clot-pole,” Merlin muttered under his breath.

“Don’t mind him.” Gwaine tried to make his voice huskier. “We can both take it as a moment of bonding.”

Gwaine could see Arthur’s shoulders tensing and grinned. Merlin, on his end, just looked at him incredulously. “Bonding over horse shit?”

The guffaw that Gwaine let out at that was absolutely genuine. The fact that it made Arthur turn back and glare at them was a bonus.

**

During the patrol, Gwaine accompanied Merlin in collecting firewood.

“Isn’t it nice… just you and me and this beautiful forest?” Gwaine put on his best romantic impression, loud enough that any eavesdropping princes could hear him.

“The bandits almost killed us in this forest a few hours ago.” Merlin squinted at him, before bending down and picking up a piece of wood.

“Just because it is dangerous doesn’t mean it’s not beautiful.” Gwaine said. “I mean… just look at me.”

However Gwaine was expecting Merlin to respond to that, a snort wasn’t it. Gwaine thought it in his best interest to refrain from any more comments while they were gathering woods.

While doing so, Gwaine found a bunch of dandelions which he covertly cut and hid inside his coat. When they reached the clearing again, where the knights had camped for the evening, Gwaine noticed Arthur looking in their direction.

“Hey Merlin,” Gwaine waited until he got Merlin’s attention before taking out the dandelions. Before Merlin could react, he blew on the fragile flowers, blowing a cloud of petals towards Merlin.

Instead of being awed by Gwaine’s sweet gesture, Merlin shook his head and glared at him. The glare was ruined by the loud sneeze that followed. “What was that for?” Merlin said, sniffling.

Gwaine shrugged, walking away towards the camp with the firewood. “Just because.”

He felt Arthur’s gaze on him the whole way through.

* * *

At the tavern, Gwaine poured Merlin yet another drink, nudging it towards him. Generally, he preferred being drunker than the rest of the people at the tavern, but right now that was a dangerous idea. He knew whose big, muscular arm he would be dangling on if he lost his inhibitions. Right now was not the time for his own romance. He had to focus on Merlin’s love life. Which meant pretending to be drunker than he was, and flirting with him.

“Merrliiiin,” Gwaine sing songed. “Merlin, Merlin, Merlin,” he chanted, while draping himself all over Merlin.

Merlin, for his part, seemed to be in a bit of sulky mood. “Stop,” he said, shrugging him off. “You are too… crushing me.”

“Are you calling me fat?” Gwaine pouted.

Merlin shook his head adamantly, spilling his drink a little in the process. “Not fat. Mul… Muscular!”

Gwaine beamed, glancing up covertly to confirm that Arthur was around… that Arthur was  _ watching _ . He noticed that Arthur was also drinking, in rather larger quantities than he usually allowed himself.

“Awwee, Merlin. Should’ve said so before! I think you’re very muscular too!”

Merlin snorted. It wasn’t a cute snort. It was a snort of drink spilling from his nose and watering eyes. Merlin’s expressions of half derision and half heart break made it even worse.

It took a moment before Merlin replied. “Muscular. Yes. Don’t let Arthur hear you say that.”

Aw fuck!  _ This _ wasn’t what he had signed up for. This was worse than their eye-sex. It was  _ moping _ .

“Hey.” Gwaine lowered his tone, going for sensitive. “You must know Arthur thinks of you very highly.”

Merlin looked up at him in dismay. “He called me a disintegrating beanpole today, Gwaine.”

Gwaine couldn’t help shooting an angry look towards Arthur at that. Did the princess never grew out of pulling-pigtails phase? Arthur met his look, but his eyes were unfocused. He was well on his way to getting sloshed. Just because he wanted to make Arthur suffer too, Gwaine pulled Merlin close, patting his shoulder.

Arthur’s face crumbled, making him look like a kicked puppy. It did  _ not _ make Gwaine feel any better.

“Listen to me, you  _ idiot! _ ” Gwaine said in a hushed whisper. It was intended for both of them, but Merlin was the only one who heard. Gwaine could tell by his whimper. “I have seen you both. The looks. The words. The  _ touches. _ What are you even waiting for?”

“It’s not… not like that Gwaine.” Merlin shook his head from where it was lying on Gwaine’s shoulder.

“It is absolutely like that!” When Merlin just shook his head again, Gwaine pulled away, holding him by both shoulders. “You like him… right?”

Merlin started shaking his head  _ again _ , so Gwaine stopped that in tracks by shaking  _ him _ . “You like him!”

Miserably, this time Merlin chose the truth and nodded.

“And he likes you.” 

This time Merlin’s head shaking was almost violent, accompanied by hand waving. “No. No, he doesn’t. He  _ doesn’t. _ ”

“Are you kidding me? You’re smart. You’re gorgeous. You’re loyal. And most importantly, he can’t take his eyes off of you. Or his hands. Trust me, I have noticed. I wish I hadn’t, but it’s hard not to.”

Instead of looking cheered up, Merlin slumped with every word Gwaine said. This time he didn’t even muster the effort to shake his head or any of his limbs. “You’re wrong, Gwaine. He doesn’t like me.”

“He does!”

“Even if he does like me, he doesn’t like  _ me _ , you know.” When Gwaine looked at him blankly, he continued. “The real me. The me behind the secrets, the way I was born. I wish I could tell him, but I can’t. So he doesn’t like me, Gwaine. He doesn’t even  _ know _ me.”

Gwaine let Merlin slump forward until his head was pressed against Gwaine’s chest. When Merlin let out a sob—or it could be a hiccup—Gwaine’s swallowed past a lump in his throat and patted Merlin’s head. “I am sorry,” he said.

This was more complicated than he had expected.

The door to the tavern closed with a bang, and Gwaine looked up to notice Arthur was gone. He patted Merlin’s head again, where he was now asleep against his chest, and stared at the door. “He  _ does _ like you.”

* * *

While utterly failing to charm Merlin, Gwaine’s plan did have an unintended consequence.

Somehow, he had forgotten all about knights’ training, and the blunt sword that Arthur wielded like a weapon of muscle-destruction. Usually, Gwaine considered himself handy with quite a few different weapons and someone who could hold his own in a battle. Arthur, with his jealousy fueled rage and calm, terrifying control was completely different than trained soldiers of other kingdoms or the bandits that attacked them on their patrols. He was so much worse.

Gwaine watched in slow motion as Arthur’s elbow reached for his left flank  _ again _ , the already aching bruises there making him cry out and he felt almost helpless as Arthur used their momentum to flip Gwaine over his back and throw him on the ground.

The fact the ground was soft was a little mercy. It meant only a bruised spine rather than a broken one. To add to the insult, he  _ saw _ Arthur throw a gloating look towards the side of the ground where Merlin was standing. The prick wasn’t even trying to be subtle.

“Get up and run around ten circles of the ground,” Arthur ordered, without so much as deigning to look at him. “Show me you are still worthy of being a knight of the Camelot, because after  _ that _ performance… let’s just say I have my doubts.”

“I can stand my own against enemies and monsters alike.” Gwaine groaned while getting back on his feet. He would have to make those ten rounds,  _ somehow _ .

“And?” Arthur raised his eyebrow in a way eerily reminiscent of Gaius.

_ “You are worse,”  _ Gwaine wanted to say, but he still hadn’t been hit enough times in the head to have permanent brain damage. Just barely though.

He got up and started running. He still valued his knighthood—a tiny bit more than the prince’s love life.

He met Merlin later at Gaius’s where Gwaine had gone to get some salve for his aching muscles, bones and soul. Merlin passed him the medicine, raising his eyebrow. That was the second not-from-Gaius Gaius eyebrow that he had received today.

“He is being nastier to you these last few days,” Merlin commented when Gwaine didn’t respond to the raised eyebrow.

“No shit.”

“Why?”

Seriously, the man couldn’t be  _ that _ oblivious. “Because I like you,” Gwaine replied.

“Oh yeah, that would do it.” Merlin nodded offhandedly. “Liking me offends his sensibilities. Probably thinks you are an idiot too. Sorry about that. Now… rub this on your body twice a day, and take care of to not touch your eyes or other sensitive parts afterwards.”

Some other time, Gwaine might have made a quip about his sensitive parts, but right now he took the salve and left wordlessly. He was afraid that if he stayed, he was prone to banging his head on the wall in frustration and destroying what remained of his brain too.

**

“Our plan is not working.” Morgana plopped a mug of ale on his table and sat down in front of him, holding a delicate glass of wine herself.

Gwaine wasn’t even surprised to see her in the small, dirty tavern. Morgana was as lady-like as it came, until she wasn’t.

“You mean  _ your _ plan isn’t working.” He didn’t suppress the groan of pain when he reached for the mug. He might even have exaggerated it. “You don’t have to tell me. My body had been screaming it for days now.”

“ _ Our  _ plan, Gwaine. And oh please. This couldn’t be worse torture than the Spring Ball a few days ago.”

Gwaine had to close his eyes at the sheer agony that memory arose in him. “Arthur dressed him in Pendragon colors.” Behind his eyelids, the colors danced.

“And danced four dances with him.” Morgana bemoaned. “That’s more dances than he danced with anyone else in total.”

“And even when he was dancing with anyone else, his eyes were  _ still _ dancing with Merlin.”

“Yes. That too.”

“And the hands. Their hands, Morgana. Going everywhere. It’s a miracle the guards didn’t escort them away for indecency.” Gwaine remembered wanting to look away, but the sheer torture was that he couldn’t. And there were so many better, more muscular and appealing sights. And yet… his eyes were glued to that disaster.

“He is the prince, Gwaine.” Morgana reminded him.

“Ah yes. Could’ve fooled me.”

“So… as I was saying… bigger tortures and all,” Morgana continued. “So stop your whinging. We need to figure out what to do.”

“I don’t know. Merlin is immune— no, not immune. He is blind to my charms!” Gwaine drank more, hoping it would lessen the blow of his failure. “What’s worse: Merlin thinks Arthur doesn’t like him.” When Morgana opened her mouth to object, he stopped her with a wave of his hand. “The  _ real _ him!”

“What is that even supposed to mean?” Morgana seemed as confused by that as he had been.

He responded by a shrug, and another swig of the ale. “Did you talk to Arthur?”

“I did.” Morgana daintily sipped her wine before explaining. “He thinks he will be taking advantage of Merlin.”

“What…. the fuck? Has he  _ met _ Merlin?”

Morgana gave him a wry smile. “He actually gave you his blessings.”

Gwaine rubbed a sore spot on his shoulder. “His blessings indeed.”

“No, seriously. He looked wretched. Said Merlin’s name a million times, and I think he also cried a little. I admit he was also sloshed…”

“You didn’t—“

Morgana waved her hand in denial. “I didn’t. I didn’t. He came home drunk as a pig. I didn’t have any hand in this.”

Gwaine waited, looking at her suspiciously. “I might have given him another glass, but his previous state is not on me.” She leaned back in the chair, grinning. “Actually, it might be on you.”

Gwaine thought back to the night in the tavern and raised his glass, accepting the blame.

“So… what do we do? Merlin thinks whatever dark secrets he is keeping, make him unlikeable for Arthur, and Arthur thinks Merlin is a helpless lady whose honor he might be soiling by bedding him.”

“Arthur won’t make the first move,” Morgana announced.

“Neither will Merlin,” Gwaine said. “Although, calling whatever they do  _ first move _ , is not exactly accurate. They made at least a few dozen moves just the last ball.”

“Agreed.” Morgana said. “If only we can get them to  _ talk _ .”

Gwaine considered that. Arthur spoke the language of boisterous anger, and Merlin spoke the language of guilt. Maybe… he could work it out. “I have an idea,” he said. “Have some ice handy… I am planning to get punched.”

* * *

He had to time it right.

Given he was Gwaine—the master observer of all things—timing was something of a specialty of his.

The knights had just slain a ginormous magical beast (whose name Gwaine hadn’t cared to remember) that had been wandering around in the woods—the mechanics of how they had managed to slay it still escaped Gwaine considering the creature’s hide had been impervious to any blade or man-made weapon. But for one reason or another, Arthur—with Merlin by his side— had managed to get under its skin,  _ literally _ . Like they always did wherever magical beasts were concerned.

The important thing was the out-door celebration that followed.

Celebration meant wine and ale, and lowered boundaries, and more importantly, the correct timing of Gwaine’s plan.

Arthur and Merlin had been predictably inseparable through most of the feast. It was only when Arthur had gotten occupied with talking to Morgana—who Gwaine had made not-so-subtle gestures at—that Gwaine made his move.

“Hey, Merlin.” Gwaine sidled up to him where he had been slinking around the corner, leaning against a tree. “Care for a walk?”

“I… I am not sure—“

Gwaine didn’t let him finish his confused line of thought, just linked their arms and tugged him. Merlin was tipsy enough and baffled enough to follow him.

“Where are we going?” Merlin asked a few minutes of strolling later.

“Nowhere,” Gwaine answered, his ears trained on the voices still coming from the party. “Just walking. I ate too much, and I heard Gwen say that walking after food helps you sleep better at night.”

“But why do I have to walk with you? I hardly ate, what with Arthur calling for me every few minutes.” Merlin complained.

“Maybe I just like your company, Merlin.” Gwaine stopped walking, backing Merlin against a tree. He could hear crunching branches not far from where they were. He didn’t bother lowering his voice, making sure he was heard. “Maybe I just like you.”

He heard it then, the footsteps maybe a few steps away. He had made sure Arthur saw them going into the woods. True to his expectations, Arthur had followed them here. So far, the plan was going spot on. Now was the time for its climax.

Gwaine grabbed Merlin’s face and pressed their lips together.

By the sudden stop in the footsteps a moment later, his timing had been on the mark!

The kiss lasted barely a few moments—and that too he attributed to Merlin’s sheer shock. After that, Merlin pushed at his chest, and with strength that Gwaine hadn’t even known Merlin possessed, shoved him away.

“What the hell?” Merlin stared at him, voice barely a croak.

“I thought you… with the walks and the drinking… I thought you felt the same way. That you liked me too.” Now was the time to put on an act of a lifetime.

“I don’t…” Merlin shook his head, trying to back into the tree. “I mean I do. I like you, Gwaine. But I don’t… Not like that. I am sorry!”

“Is it Arthur?” The sharp gasp that followed his words didn’t come from Merlin. Merlin was too distracted to notice, and Gwaine pretended not to.

“What?”

“It is Arthur, Merlin? Are you rejecting me for him?” Gwaine paced closer to him, getting into his personal space.

“Gwaine, please. I need to go back.”

“Tell me!” he demanded, almost hovering over him. He would’ve felt bad about his actions, but he was sure he would be punished appropriately any moment now.

When Merlin just looked away, feebly shoving at his chest, Gwaine went for the low blow. It wasn’t intended for Merlin, but for the man that he knew was clenching his fists behind a tree. “Even if you do… he is the prince, Merlin. I am sure he doesn’t like you back.”

Gwaine could’ve kicked himself for the tears that shimmered in Merlin’s eyes. If Arthur didn’t make up for that soon… Gwaine would kick  _ him _ too.

“You think I don’t know that, Gwaine. You think I don’t know that someone like Arthur can’t  _ really _ like a freak like me?”

“So you do like him.” Gwaine parroted his old question.

“YES!” Merlin shouted. “Yes. I do. I am stupid, I know that. So trust me, Gwaine. I hate this as much as you do. You don’t have to rub it in my face. So would you just back off now!”

Gwaine searched Merlin’s devastated face. Merlin  _ really  _ believed that. Gwaine waited a beat, and this time when he spoke, the words weren’t intended for Merlin. “Make me.”

It didn’t disappoint. A moment later, he was jerked back from his shoulder, and came face to face with Arthur.

“Merlin told you to  _ back off. _ ” Arthur spoke while grinding his teeth. His hands were clenched into fists at his side.

“He did. But last I checked, he is a servant and is not taken. As a knight, it is my right…”

His sentence was cut short by a hefty punch to his jaw. He had been expecting that. Hell, he deserved that.

Gwaine didn’t have to pretend to fall to the ground at that. Arthur had a strong fist after all.

“Arthur?” Merlin’s tentative voice snapped Arthur’s attention away. The sweet relief couldn’t have come sooner. Gwaine’s face wouldn’t have survived another blow.

“Merlin.” Arthur turned around, facing Merlin and taking a step towards him.

“Arthur, I can explain…”

“You’re not an idiot.” Arthur said, his voice soft and affectionate. “Well, you are at times. But not about this.”

“You heard.” Merlin sounded distraught.

“I did. And I want you to know that…” Gwaine saw Arthur stop in front of Merlin, only the distance of a small step between them. Gwaine held his breath, waiting for his efforts to finally bear fruit.

“Stop Arthur.” Gwaine could’ve cursed when Merlin held out a hand. “You can’t. We can’t. There are things I haven’t told you.”

“I know.” Arthur didn’t seem daunted. If anything, there was a smile in his voice.

“There are secrets I have kept. I didn’t want to keep them, but it was either those, or the guillotine. I would face the guillotine for you, but then I wouldn’t be able to protect you anymore. So basically…”

“Merlin,” Arthur raised his hand, cupping Merlin’s jaw. Gwaine probably should’ve looked away, given them some privacy. But they seemed to have forgotten he was still there, and Gwaine had gotten  _ punched _ for this. He needed the sweet resolution. “You don’t have to say anything. I already know.”

“You know about the…” Here, Merlin paused. Probably remembering that Gwaine was still lying on the ground. “About what I am?” Arthur nodded.

Gwaine wasn’t interested in the secret anyway. He kind of suspected it: the magical beast had had  _ impenetrable skin _ . That was only one of the many examples. As he had stated previously, Gwaine noticed everything.

“Oh,” Merlin said, deflated. “So you know…”

“And Merlin.” Gwaine could almost  _ feel _ the caress against Merlin’s cheek. “He was wrong.”

“What?”

“I am saying, Gwaine was wrong. I  _ do _ like you. Quite a lot, actually.”

Then, the sounds coming from the two of them became less words, and more muffled moans. Gwaine, considering his mission achieved with tremendous success, decided to crawl out of the clearing. The last thing he wanted to do was disturb them.

Back in the clearing, the celebration was winding down. He still spotted Morgana there, and walked up to her.

“Where’s my bag of ice?” he asked, feeling his jaw throb.

“Where’s my brother?” she countered.

“Where’s Merlin?” That was the only answer Gwaine needed to give. Morgana smirked and walked away.

Before Gwaine could get grumpy about the lack of appreciation, Morgana appeared again. She was carrying, to his utter delight and surprise, a small bag wrapped in fine linen.

“Where did you even get this?” Gwaine exclaimed. It was almost the beginning of summer. Ice wasn’t that common anymore.

“It’s more cold slush than ice. Don’t thank me yet.” Gwaine didn’t argue, taking the bag from her and pressing it against his face. It was wet and mushy, but he could’ve kissed her for the relief it gave him. Somehow, he suspected kissing her would go even worse than kissing Merlin. Instead, he chose to express his gratitude through his thankful groan.

“You still owe me the details.” Morgana informed him, though she seemed in no rush. Gwaine was sure that his own smile mirrored the satisfied smile on her face.

* * *

Merlin was walking with a distinct spring in his step and a goofier-than-usual grin on his face when Gwaine found him. Even seeing the red swelling on Gwaine’s face didn’t dull his smile. In another situation, Gwaine might have been insulted, but today, it felt like validation of the worthiness of his cause.

Merlin did look a little bit chagrined though. “Hey, Gwaine.” He started, not meeting Gwaine’s eyes. “I wanted to—“

Before Merlin could dig an embarrassing hole for himself, Gwaine interrupted him. “No need to thank me, Merlin. I did what any good friend would.”

It stopped Merlin short. Gwaine could see the gears in his head turning before his smile became even brighter. “You mean you did all this for...”

“You two. Yes. Your heart eyes were worse than slow poisoning. I had to do something!”

“So… the walks, the speeches, the--,” Merlin paused and lowered his voice. “—kiss. You didn’t mean it, right?”

“You didn’t break my heart, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Gwaine could’ve bet Merlin looked relieved at that. “Although your lover might have broken my jaw.”

“Sorry about that.” The sheepish but not exactly repentant smile reappeared. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Please do. Also please explain the situation and the fact that he should be grateful to me. I saved your love life, at great personal cost, if I may say so myself.” Gwaine touched his jaw gently, feigning an exaggerated wince..

“We both know you’ve been hit harder than this over a mug of ale, but sure. I’ll let him know to come kiss it better.”

“Not necessary. I reserve my kisses for people I  _ actually _ want to bed, from now on,” Gwaine said. “Speaking of, I have one last question for you.”

“What is it?” Merlin, the sweet thing, looked curious.

“I just have to know… who topped?”

Gwaine laughed loudly at the spluttering, blushing, look on Merlin’s face. Merlin, still blushing, called him an incorrigible arse and walked away.

Gwaine was still internally chuckling when Morgana spoke next to him. By now, he had gotten used to her creeping up to him unannounced and was no longer surprised.

“Arthur has a limp,” she said.

“What?” He looked at her inquisitively.

“To answer your last question,” she nodded in the direction of Arthur as he headed towards the training grounds. “It’s subtle, but Arthur has a limp.”

Gwaine watched Arthur as Merlin joined him, both smiling so wide that Gwaine had half a mind to call Gaius to get them checked. There it was, a hardly there, only visible to eyes as sharp as Morgana’s, limp.

“So he does.” Gwaine couldn’t help smirking broadly. Who knew matchmaking could be such a high. He turned towards Morgana then. “Now that that’s taken care of…?” he let the sentence trail off into a question.

“Am I supposed to predict the rest of the sentence?”

“I am just wondering… do I have to go kiss Leon too, to get him into  _ your _ bed. Am I going to get a second-sibling discount this time?”

Morgana’s smile became saccharine sweet at that. It almost made Gwaine take a step back. “Don’t you think you’re making a big assumption here?”

“Am I? You were both almost climbing over each other on the pretext of dancing last night. I know attraction when I see it.”

“No, Gwaine.” Morgana shook her head, her hair flowing almost ethereally at the movement. “I meant, assuming that he isn’t already in my bed. That he hasn’t been in it, every night, for a while now.”

“Oh,” Gwaine said, a little taken off guard. “A while?”

Morgana laughed. “Not all of us are as obvious as those two idiots. Some of us know how to keep things private. But I suppose you wouldn’t understand.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gwaine demanded.

“To borrow your own phrase…  _ do I have to go kiss Percival now _ ?”

Gwaine looked at her for just a moment, before tilting his head in acknowledgement. He had never even tried to be subtle. “No need, I got it covered. Keep some ice ready, just in case. This beautiful face can’t take another blow.”

Before she could even form a reply, Gwaine turned around and walked quickly towards the training field, calling out loudly. “Hey, Percy!”

The big, deliciously muscular man hardly had time to react before Gwaine jumped on him, wrapping his arms and legs around Percy’s broad shoulders and waist, and kissing him soundly.

He didn’t get punched in the face. Just the opposite, really.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading <3\. Lemme know what you guys thought about it. Your comments help more than you can ever know, and are a motivation for me to pull myself out of the writers block and throw some more words at the doc and hope they stick.


End file.
